Forever and Always
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: The short and tragic relationship of Sheriff Stilinski and Mrs. Stilinski.


**Okay, so this was purely written because there doesn't seem to be enough Mama Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski fics (or not that I've seen). So, yeah, here's one for ya.**

**Thanks for reading, I don't own the characters (though I did give the Stilinski parents names) and drop me a comment if you can.**

**Bye**

* * *

**August 1991…**

When Adam Stilinski first met Christie Datsik, he had pulled her over. A blue, Jeep Wrangler sped by his squad car, spraying it with mud and dirt from a recent rain puddle, and that was Adam's cue to hit the siren and turn his lights on, driving after the jeep.

It took a while for the driver to notice their tail, even longer for them to find a spot to pullover, but finally the jeep had completely stopped. With a sigh, Adam opened his door and headed towards the vehicle, hand resting on his gun.

He tapped the window and it slowly rolled down, revealing a pair of caramel colored eyes, dark hair, and a splatter of moles across a fair face. "I am so sorry," the girl said quickly, turning down her radio. "I was listening to this really great song, my friend recommended it to me, and this thing has a mind of its own most of the time. Plus, I didn't even _see _you."

"License and registration, ma'am," Adam stated once the woman ran out of words.

"Right, right," she said quickly extracting the required information from her glove compartment, digging around a pile of candy wrappers. "Yeah, sorry about the candy; it's a guilty pleasure." A few wrappers managed to fall to the floor before she closed the compartment door.

"My friend Samantha has told me, like fifty times, that I need to stop eating all that junk and I know I should, but have you ever had a Reese's? You cannot just eat one."

"Okay, Ms… Dat… Dat…"

"Datsik," the woman corrected, a little embarrassed. "It's Russian. Don't worry, a lot of people have trouble pronouncing it." Adam knew a thing or two about mispronounced last name's and could totally sympathize with her. "Though, my last name has nothing on my dad's first name. He tells me his mother was cruel to name him that, but I think it's sweet. It was after her father."

Adam never met someone who spoke so much or so openly or so quickly. It was like listening to The Energizer Bunny, and he felt that he should be annoyed by her chatterbox tendencies, but in fact he found it quite endearing.

"Are you going to give me a ticket?" she asked curiously, and he shook his head, knocking himself back to reality. "It's just, Samantha is waiting for me, and I need to be there like yesterday otherwise she gets these weird red blotches on her face. It makes her look a bit like a clown, and seriously clowns scare the living…"

"Do you want to go to dinner sometime?" Adam blurted out, mentally kicking himself the moment the words left his mouth.

"…shit out…" Datsik's head snapped up, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones. "What?"

"Uh, um…" Holy crap, what the hell did he do? This was turning awkward really fast. He should just give her a warning and go on his way, maybe crawl in a hole and die.

"I mean yes," she answered quickly, cutting off Adam's apology. "Um…" she dug around her seat, looking for something, finally coming up with a piece of a receipt. "Can I use your number? I mean pen. Pen. Can I use your pen?"

"Yeah." He handed it over, watching as she scribble seven numbers on the paper. She handed both paper and pen back, and he returned her license and registration form. "Have a good day."

"Wait, aren't you going to give me a ticket or something?"

"What? Why would…?" Oh yeah, she had been speeding. "I, um, I'm going to let you off with a warning."

"Seriously? And what happens if I had said no to your date?" Her smirk was a little flirty as she looked up to meet his eyes.

"You'll never know," he flirted back, turning to head back to his car.

"Wait!" she called out the window, causing him to freeze. "I'm Christie, but I don't know your name."

"Adam," he replied and continued walking.

"Nice to meet you, Adam," she called back. "Be sure to call me soon, you know, for our date." Adam smiled, and nodded his head before getting in his car. He waited until Christie had pulled away, this time at a decent speed, before glancing down at her number. She wrote her sevens really cute.

**F&A**

Their date started out fine. He only had to wait a few minutes in her foyer, getting stared at by a blonde woman, before Christie came down the stairs. As they headed out, the blonde woman called, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There's nothing you wouldn't do," Christie retorted glancing back at her friend. The blonde flashed a sly grin, closing the door behind them. "Sorry about her," Christie said softly, jerking her thumb towards the closed door, "Sam _thinks_ she's funny." Adam nodded, opening Christie's door for her. She thanked him with a smile, and he waited until she was inside before shutting the door, right on his fingers.

"Fuck," he muttered wrenching his hand from the door.

"Oh my God," Christie exclaimed opening her door. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Adam responded waving his hand, telling her to stay in the car. "I'm fine. It's fine."

"You didn't break your fingers, did you? I'm not a nurse or anything, but I roomed with a doctor when I went to college. Well, she was a pre-med student, but…"

"I'm fine," Adam repeated checking his fingers over. His nails would probably be purple, but other than that he could bend his fingers, so he was pretty certain he didn't break them. Of course, that could be adrenaline talking, but it was best not to dwell on it right now.

"Let's go," he said moving away from her door, listening as she reluctantly closed it. Once he was in his car, Christie turned to him and asked, "Do you want me to get you some ice?"

"No, it's fine. I promise, I'm fine."

At the restaurant, the only nice place in Beacon Hills (and by nice, it just meant the hostess had to seat people) Adam had problems holding anything in his right hand. Twice, Christie asked if he needed the ER, and twice Adam had told her he was fine. It wasn't until Christie noticed his index finger was swollen did she put her utensils down and say, "That's it. We're going to the hospital."

"I'm…"

"No, you're not," she replied getting to her feet. She dug around in her purse, pulling out a couple twenties, and tossed them on the table. She then beckoned for Adam to get up, putting her hands on her hips when he stayed sitting.

"Seriously Christie…"

"Adam, stand up," she stated stubbornly, a stern look on her face.

"I'm fine," he insisted but stood anyway. "And that's way too much." He gestured at the money she left on the table.

"They get a good tip," she retorted grabbing his arm and practically dragging him out of the restaurant. "Look, I know you want to be Mr. Macho, but seriously you need to get those fingers checked out. That's all you need is arthritis or something at your age."

**TW**

"You know," Adam murmured some time later, sitting in the waiting room. "This isn't how I pictured our date going."

"I spent New Year's Eve in the hospital five years ago because my date fell off a porch and gave himself a concussion," she replied with a shrug. "This is a normal occurrence for me."

"So, all your dates end up in the hospital?" he asked curiously and she smiled, shaking her head. "I'm only…" a light kiss cut him off, surprising him, and it ended far too soon. Before Adam could say anything, a nurse called his name.

"I'll be here," Christie called with a smile.

"Y-yeah," Adam stammered and followed the nurse, nearly tripping over his feet. As dates go, it was far better than he expected.

**TW**

**April 1992…**

"I can't believe Sam moved to Sacramento," Christie said softly, sitting on the edge of her couch, face buried in her hands. "We've been roommates since our last year of college; I don't remember a time she hadn't been around."

"And now she's married and moving," Adam stated sitting next to her, putting an arm around her. "I know I'm not much of a substitute…"

"Adam, what…?" she looked up, eyes widening when she saw the ring he held in his hand. "Adam," said whispered, his name barely audible.

"Christiana Datsik, will you marry me?"

For the first time in her life, Christie was actually speechless. She tried to form thoughts, words, knowing Adam was waiting for an answer. Mostly what came out was puffs of air and a weird wheezing sound which may or may not have been coming from her.

"Christie?" Adam gave her a worried look. "Christie honey, breathe."

"W…?" Oh, right, she wasn't breathing. How did she breath again? Right, air into lungs, breathing; it's easy. So, why wasn't she getting any air into her lungs? This was bad. Really, really, really bad, and she thought her only worry was finding a roommate to help her pay the rent.

"Breathe with me, Chrissy," Adam stated, using the nickname she didn't really like, placing her hand on his chest. She felt his chest rising as he drew in a deep, slow breath followed by his chest falling as he exhaled. She fought to mimic him, her vision spotty.

It took a few more deep, slow breaths on Adam's part before Christie was able to get her breathing normal. For a while afterward, he kept her shaking hand between his, murmuring apologies. "I shouldn't have asked. I just thought…"

"No, you, no," she said quickly, her voice trembling slightly. "I just, you surprised me is all. I mean, marriage is a HUGE decision, and I'm only twenty-two, and I'm not even sure if I want to get married, but I do know that I love the idea of getting married to you. I mean, spending the rest of my life with you, in some three bedroom house we buy together, with our two children because, let's face it, I want more than one, but I don't want to overwhelm you with, like three or four, you know? And..."

"Is that a yes?" Adam asked curiously, leaning forward.

"What? I never…"

"Chrissy, hon, you just described our entire life together with the exception of us sitting on our front porch, drinking iced tea, watching our grandchildren play."

"I… I did?" Holy crap, she did, and it didn't terrify her one bit. Actually, she realized how badly she wanted that life. Fifty years with Adam, two kids, maybe four or five grandkids. The whole shebang, and she could see every detail right down to their two children, a boy and a girl. The boy having her eyes, the girl having Adam's smile; it was exactly what she wanted, and the only thing she could say was, "Adam Stilinski, yes I will marry you."

**F&A**

**October 1992…**

Christie's father died a week after hers and Adam's wedding. They had to cut their honeymoon short for his funeral, and Christie was a complete mess the entire plane ride home. Adam hadn't known Christie's father well-the man barely liked him and they didn't spend a lot of time together-but he knew how much Christie loved him so he supported her through the entire thing.

At the funeral, she cried into his chest, great gulping sobs, leaving him heartbroken and tearing up. He never wanted his wife to experience pain like this again, not for as long as he lived, but he knew he couldn't stop something like this from happening. Death happened to everyone, anytime, and there was nothing Adam could do to change that; no matter how hard he tried.

After the funeral, they drove to Christie's parents' house where they spent a few hours with her mother and sister. Adam did anything he could to ensure the three women's needs were met, even if it was just offering a shoulder for them to cry on.

Adam left alone that night, encouraging Christie to stay with her family for as long as she needed. During the drive back, he realized that death didn't happen to the victim, it happened to those around the deceased. They had to be the one who carried on, continued living, figuring out how to function without that missing member. It was an eye opening thing, and Adam knew he'd take it with him to the grave.

**F&A**

**September 1993…**

"I've taken like three tests, Adam," Christie said excitedly, waving one in her husband's face. "It's conclusive."

"We're having a baby?" Adam asked with wide eyes, watching his wife nod enthusiastically. "Are you sure?"

"Oh my God," she exclaimed hitting him, but she still couldn't keep the grin off her face. "Will you just look." She slapped the test onto his desk, and he glanced down at it, taking in the little plus sign. He studied the test for the longest time, before jumping up. He gathered Christie in his arms, spinning her in a lazy circle.

"Congratulations Mr. Stilinski," she said with a smile, kissing him softly.

"You too, Mrs. Stilinski."

**F&A**

**April 1994…**

"You want to name him what?" Adam whispered cradling his newborn son in his arms. Christie rolled her eyes, repeating the name. "I know you want to name him after your father, but think of the poor boy when he starts school. No teacher is going to be able to pronounce it."

"Adam." She gave him her pleading look, wide, brown eyes trained on him, and he felt his resolve crack. "Alright," he said with a sigh, "but you're paying the therapy bills."

"Oh, shush," Christie responded reaching for her baby. Adam relinquished the newborn, taking a seat in a chair, watching as Christie spoke softly to their son. "We could always call you Stiles for short," she commented gently rocking the baby.

"It's a lot better than…" he wasn't even going to try and pronounce it. "We'll just make sure the teachers know before he starts school."

Christie wasn't paying attention, off in her own little world as she softly hummed a Beatles song to Stiles. Adam smiled softly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

**F&A**

**June 1995…**

"Oh my God," Christie said softly as Adam explained about the accident. "And neither parent survived?" She covered her mouth, trying to keep her tears at bay. "That poor baby."

"_I won't be home tonight,_" Adam told her softly, and she nodded in understanding. "_How's your head?"_

"Fine now," she replied turning to see Stiles sitting in his playpen, fingers in his mouth, bouncing up and down. "I took some aspirin, it went away." She tried not to picture Stiles being all alone, never knowing either herself or Adam, and she had to hold back tears again as she failed miserably.

"_I love you_," Adam said softly.

"I love you, too," she whispered and they both stayed on the line for five long minutes before hanging up. Christie crossed the room in a flash, scooping her baby up. She held him close to her chest, listening to his baby chatter, and softly said, "Mommy will never leave you, sweet pea. I promise."

**TW**

**May 1996…**

After almost a year of constant headaches, Adam finally convinced Christie to go to the doctor. She kept insisting she was fine, that it was probably all the stress from raising Stiles. "I mean, Adam, he gets into everything. You need to keep a constant eye on him."

"Yes, honey, I know, but let's be sure, okay?" She sighed, but nodded. Stiles sat between them, squirming in his chair, obviously wanting to get down, but Adam's arm kept him in place. "No," he whined reaching for the floor. "No down."

"No, Stiles," Adam scolded softly just as a doctor called Christie's name. "Do you want us to go with you?" he asked curiously but she shook her head, following the doctor through a set of double doors.

While they waited, Jack finally let Stiles down. The toddler proceeded to run all over the waiting room, humming some weird song he made up, spinning in lazy circles, and otherwise disturbing the other patrons. Adam slowly followed him when he headed out of the waiting room, making sure he didn't break anything or no one grabbed him.

The toddler led him to the vending machine, pointing at it, bouncing up and down on his feet. Adam gave him a curious look and asked, "What?"

"Want," Stiles half demanded, half asked pointing at the machine again. Adam followed his finger, eyes settling on the Reese's. "Just like your mother," Adam muttered but still dug out some change and put it in the machine.

Once the Reese's was in his possession, Adam took Stiles back to the waiting room. He opened the package, his son practically jumping in his lap, and took one of the Reese's out. He removed the black film thing from the bottom, breaking the candy in half.

"Here," he said offering the smaller half to his son. He watched as Stiles ate the candy, chocolate smearing all over his face, hands, and clothes. "Seriously, half did that? I swear son, you'd get dirty in a sterilized room."

"Yeah," Stiles said happily, his mouth full of chocolate.

**F&A**

They found a small tumor in Christie's head. Her doctor assured them it was removable, that the procedure could be preformed anytime, that Christie was strong and healthy and had a high chance of coming out of the surgery relatively fine.

Adam and her had many conversations, sometimes well into the night, about what they were going to do, until finally deciding on the operation. And, as the doctor said, she came out of it relatively fine. The tumor was gone, he had said, and she should be able to live her life normally. To Adam, it felt like they dodged a bullet, and to Christie it meant she got to spend more time with her son.

Stiles had no idea what was going on, the two-year-old lost in his own little world, and Adam hoped he never had to find out.

**F&A**

**May 1997…**

When Samantha, her husband, and their daughter moved closer to Beacon Hills, Adam actually thought the roof was going to fall off at the high pitched shriek of joy Christie let out. She then babbled on and on about Stiles and Heather becoming friends and being able to see Samantha on a daily basis and a bunch of other stuff that Adam barely took in but couldn't quite fault his wife for.

Since the tumor, she hadn't been herself, but this news seemed to bring her back to herself, and Adam loved it.

**F&A**

**September 2000…**

The headaches returned with a vengeance, prompting the small family to head to the doctor again. Stiles, at six, was full of a lot more questions than he had been the first time around, and Adam tried as best as he could to respond to each one, but it was kind of hard to explain the prospect of cancer to a child.

"Will Mommy be okay?" Stiles asked curiously, hanging off his father's arm.

"I'm sure she will be," Adam replied softly needing, more than anything, for Christie to be okay. When the doctor appeared an hour later, a nurse offered to take Stiles to the cafeteria, leaving Adam to follow the doctor back to his office, Christie already waiting for them.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and she jumped to her feet when he entered the room, throwing her arms around him, sobbing into his chest.

The doctor explained her tumors had come back, but they couldn't operate. He also said something about experimental drugs, radiation therapy, and chemo. Adam nodded along to everything the doctor told them, Christie squeezing his hand tightly.

Afterwards, the doctor left them alone. Christie turned to him and said, "I don't want Stiles to know about this."

"But…"

"No, h-he's a little boy. He doesn't n-need to be worried about this, not at his age. W-we'll tell him when he's ready."

"If you're sure," Adam replied softly, unable to argue with her.

"I'm not s-sure of anything anymore," she stammered before breaking down into sobs again.

**F&A**

**August 2002…**

After almost two years of chemo therapy, drugs, and radiation therapy, Christie finally went into remission. They went out for a special dinner the day the doctor told them, celebrating another bullet dodged. Though, Adam merely called it a miracle.

"So, you're gonna get better?" Stiles asked curiously, kicking his feet.

"Yes," Christie replied softly, nodding, giving him a pale smile. "I'm going to get better."

"Good because I didn't like that you were sick." And Stiles returned to his ice cream, bobbing his head.

"I didn't either, sweet pea," Christie agreed wrapping her arm around him and giving him a hug. "I didn't either." When Christie broke the hug, she and Adam listened as Stiles described a little, strawberry blonde girl named Lydia that he had met at recess the other day, and how he had plans to marry her one day.

**F&A**

**March 2005…**

The Hale fire was the worst tragedy to happen in Beacon Hills in over thirty-five years. Eleven people trapped inside, ten dead, and one comatose. Adam knew the youngest Hale, Cora, from when Stiles was in kindergarten, and he, as the newly appointed sheriff, had to be the one to break it to the older children.

Laura took the news in stride, trying to keep it together for her brother, who broke down right in front of the sheriff after vehemently denying that it happened. This was worse than when the kid lost his girlfriend a year ago to a mountain lion attack.

As Laura comforted her brother, Adam left them in the interrogation room, spotting Stiles and Christie entering the building. Upon seeing him, Stiles raced forward, a piece of paper clutched in his hand, and excitedly said, "I got an A on my spelling test!"

"That's great kiddo," Adam replied with a forced smile, ruffling his son's hair. "Hey, buddy, can you give Mom and me a second, please?"

"Sure." Stiles raced off to talk to Ramona behind the front desk and Adam turned his attention to his wife.

"Is it true?" she asked softly, her eyes full of worry.

"Yeah, someone set the Hale house on fire," Adam murmured softly, running a hand through his hair. "The two remaining kids are here, and their uncle is being treated at the hospital. They're saying it was an accident…"

"But you don't believe that," Christie said softly and Adam shook his head. "Where are the Hale children going to stay tonight?"

"I don't…" Adam trailed off as he glanced over at the front desk, noticing that Stiles wasn't next to Ramona anymore. "Where's Stiles?" he asked worry gripping his stomach.

"I don't…" Christie and Adam frantically started searching the immediate area, one of the deputies pointing towards the interrogation room.

"Crap," Adam murmured and headed towards the room he had left the Hales. He slowly opened the door, listening as Stiles said, "It's okay to cry. My mom tells me that all the time, so if you gotta cry I'll totally let you cry on my shoulder. It's not a big shoulder, mind you, but it'll do."

"Thank you," Laura said with a polite smile, her brother's head in her lap, the kid's eyes closed. "But I think we have enough shoulders." At Stiles' crestfallen look, Lauran quickly stated, "But I promise, if we ever need one, I'll be sure to call you."

"Okay," Stiles replied nodding. He then turned to see his father standing in the doorway, arms crossed, giving him a pointed look. He flashed Adam a guiltily innocent look, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry."

"Come on." Adam beckoned for Stiles to follow him.

"Bye Laura, Derek," Stiles murmured waving and followed his dad out of the room.

**F&A**

**February 2006…**

When the tumors came back a third time, Christie knew there was no point fighting anymore. They had already had two miracles, she wasn't sure her body could take a third, so she foregone the treatments, opting to spend what little time she had left with her family.

**F&A**

**August 2006…**

They buried her on a Sunday. Stiles wouldn't say a word to Adam, his caramel eyes trained on his mother's casket, unshed tears clinging to his lashes. It was probably the most still his son had ever been in his entire life. Samantha and Heather sat on Stiles' left, the former gripping tightly to the latter's hand as she wept openly.

Adam glanced around, marveling at just how many people Christie knew, trying very hard to keep it together for Stiles. He had to keep it together for Stiles. It was the only thing that mattered at that moment. He lasted all of ten minutes before he broke apart, burying his face in his hands.

He felt a warm hand on his back, a soft, familiar voice murmuring, "It's alright, Dad. It's alright." But it wasn't alright; it was never going to be alright again. He had lost the love of his life, his Chrissy. How was anything ever going to be alright again?

**F&A**

**September 2007…**

Since Stiles missed a lot of school last year, he had to repeat a grade. He wasn't okay with it, far from it, but Adam knew his son would catch up. Maybe he'd even make a friend or two, since he stopped hanging around his other friends when his mother passed away.

"Have a good day today," Adam said to Stiles when he parked in front of the school.

"Yup," Stiles replied and got out. Before closing the door, however, he ducked down and said, "Love you, Dad."

"Love you, too," Adam murmured and watched as his son headed towards the building, nearly running into a small, curly haired kid. Stiles stopped, a smile on his face as he held out his hand. The smaller boy shook it, obviously introducing himself, and Adam smiled.

As much as he missed Christie, and the fact that it took him nearly a year to dig himself out of a downward spiral, there was one thing he knew for sure. He and Stiles would be alright.


End file.
